


Stay the Same

by CravenWyvern



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Not at all historically accurate, Social Anxiety, William is an oddball, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: The train makes it in one piece to its destination, yet the Codex Umbra still makes it into his hands.They will get what They want.





	Stay the Same

**Author's Note:**

> ...why doesn't Mr. Skits have two t's????

The station clattered, shook as trains drew close over the tracks, the air heavy and hot as passengers stood here and there, some passing goodbyes to friends and family, others huddled away and alone with their luggage, tickets held in tight grips.

There was a trunk on his right, two carefully covered cages at his left, and William could feel his nervousness creeping up on him again.

It was foreboding, almost, whatever this anxiety was, and while train riding wasn’t what he was used to it wasn’t as if this was his first time. He really didn’t think he should be feeling so skittish, unhappy about boarding as he was. 

But it almost felt like a terrible cloud, something terrible looming on the horizon, a bated breath just waiting to crash down and smother him.

Honestly, it was scaring him almost silly. 

"Oh, William, there you are!"

He startled, flinching for a moment before turning his gaze to see Charlie trotting on over, balancing all of her bags as best as she could.

She always seemed to have too much sometimes, and yet too little.

William internally shook himself, nervously abandoning his own baggage to help her settle her cases down, easing the strained look from her face as she sighed, started to straighten out her hair and adjust herself as he coughed politely.

"Ah, sorry, Charlie. I was a bit...distracted."

"More than that I'd say. I leave you for five minutes and you wander off to the wrong spot." She brushed her hair from her face, blew out a breath as he blinked at her owlishly, completely blank before the realization started to dawn and he looked about, up to the numbered signs. "You silly, what would have happened if you had ended up on a train to New York? We'd be on opposite sides of the country then!"

She seemed to find the idea funny, laughing quietly with a small shake of the head, and while it may have sent a horrid jitter of paranoia and anxiety to sit in his chest William was able to figure out a shaky smile, hands fidgeting as he glanced up at the numbers nervously.

"I'm, I'm sure I would have figured it out." 

"William, I'm just teasing. I know you wouldn't have gotten _that_ lost." Her words didn't really bring any level of comfort to him, but then she sighed and looked back to her luggage, hands on her hips as she chewed on her lower lip, face falling into thought. "I'm wondering if I'm bringing too much, keeping all this around. I'll just get more there anyway."

"Oh, no no, it's not too much Charlie!" She gave him a look, a light frown, but he waved his hands as he tried to assure her, eyeing the fact that she had at the very least three times more cases than himself. "Whatever makes you more comfortable, I mean! You packed everything that was important to you, so it shouldn't be too much really."

He did feel like he was arguing for something that really didn't need to be argued for, but still! His bags had everything important that he would need, very little really, but Charlie obviously had more of a sentimental connection to her belongings and that was fine, just fine!

Even if he had to pay for the extra cases on their tickets! He...hadn't planned for it, but it really wasn't all that much so it was perfectly fine in his book.

Which was funny to think of, since he didn't even have any books. His luggage held the little show animals and the small amount of clothing he still had around.

Besides his suit, of course. He probably shouldn't be wearing it outside of showing, but he...felt more comfortable, really. It brought him a few odd looks, stiffening his shoulders at the paranoid feeling of eyes on him, judging him, but wearing this suit, lavender and darker purple, all sorts of cleaned up and dapper, did make him feel so much better. 

Helped ease the stress a bit, or at least he liked to believe.

"I'll take your word for it, William." She waved a hand at him, smile wiggling on her face as he suddenly got nervous at the thought before she shook her head and went to pick up her bags. "Winona's probably going to blow her top when I show her those fancy dresses; she's always going on about having excess and all that."

William could practically feel the anxiety now, wringing his hands as his gaze fell to the floor, even more nervous at the thought of Charlie's sister. From what she's described to be, he was getting the faintest of impressions that he was supposed to be afraid!

Of what, he didn't know! But Charlie described her as if she was a woman who shouldn't be trifled with, and William has always had the bad misfortune with accidently bothering those sorts of people. He was really hoping that it wouldn't be all that bad, he was just meeting his friends sister after all, her blood relative that she spoke very highly of and seemed very excited to meet up with.

Funny, how Charlie never really asked about Jack. It...was probably better that way. 

Before he could articulate a reply of any sort there was the breaking sound of a shrill whistle, loud and piercing and almost enough to cause him to flinch, but months of being in places with such loud noises have helped in at least making them easier to deal with. Hell, there was a time where he used to flinch away whenever someone closed a door a little bit too loudly!

...well, he still sort of did, but not as bad as it used to be! Charlie was helping him a lot, really, especially with that sort of thing.

The whistling call of the stationed train, a bit away from them next to a different number sign, was attracting a few of those milling about, last minute hugs and kisses and goodbyes as the train was boarded.

"Welp, that's for us." Charlie huffed as she grabbed up her baggage, swayed as she tried to keep balance, and hurriedly William darted forward to help even the load, combining his cases with hers. There was quiet rustling from his covered cages, slight fluttering, but otherwise the show animals were silent.

They knew travel pretty well by now, so at least he didn't have to worry too much about them.

Though he most certainly was going to.

As Charlie balanced herself out, the weight of the luggage making his own shoulders ache and drag down a bit, William glanced around the station one more time.

That dark feeling from earlier was subsiding now, the cloud dissipating. Charlie's distinct way of distracting him must have scattered it off, because now all he could think of was finding some safe place to put her things and then to sit awhile, rest off the memory of panic still in him. The train ride was going to be a long one, he had been told, and maybe he could get some sleep on it too.

The nightmares were not too bad, really, but they were getting more frequent. William couldn't even remember what happened in them, but even just thinking about it made his stomach twist and chest knot up in abstract fear.

"C'mon, William, don't get distracted again! I don't want to miss our train today!"

Charlie was already off, calling over her shoulder as her cases bumped up against her sides, her legs, hurrying along to the steadily decreasing line outside the trains doors, and then he quickly balanced himself with the combination of his suitcases and her carry ons, picking up a pace as to catch up.

There really wasn't a lot of people heading onboard, those still on from other stations watching from the windows, the line was shorter than he imagined, and William wrinkled his nose and heaved a sigh at the trains burst of steam and smoke, the footsteps of everyone boarding, Charlies friendly little greeting as she handed over her ticket and Williams more shaky, curt response as he flashed his own little printed strip of paper.

Even with the vestiges of foreboding still lingering, at least he was distracted enough to not think too hard about it. Night terrors couldn't get to him if he was awake, after all.

As the train left the station, in all its shaky loud glory, people packed in and the low babble of conversation and the rest of the messiness that made up a crowded population, William kept his bags close, cages set carefully down, hugging his arms about his chest and trying to not draw unnecessary attention to himself. The train was going to have a few stops, more people were to get on and off, and he still wished he had ordered a more private compartment but he just didn't have enough funds for that, so now other people sat around him, making him want to go invisible, disappear.

It was one thing, to be seen on stage, center of attention as he did his little tricks and fought his own stuttering, made himself learn around with talking louder, deeper, to draw attention to himself. It was completely different when amongst the crowd, feeling their unkind eyes upon him, in passing or in stares he tried his best to ignore.

But, at least Charlie was here. She had sat beside him too, helped create the feeling like a shield even, and pressed up like she was, legs crossed and leaning to look out the window he had slotted himself up against, made him feel ever so slightly better.

At least he wasn't doing this alone anymore. William had his friend with him, and as the train rattled and tried its best to spook him, with its underlying foreboding and the feeling of a threat in the air, he focused on her being at his side.

It helped, it really did.

***

“-are you even listening to me, William?”

“Oh, uh, sorry, sorry.”

It wasn't quite an interruption, but it certainly _felt_ like one, and William shut the book with a bit more force than necessary, tearing his attention back to his friend with an apologetic smile.

Charlie, for her part, just gave him a frown, pen tapping an odd pattern onto the table and minding the paper she was still attempting to scribble upon. From here, William could see half of what had been written crossed out. 

“Just got a bit distracted, is all.”

Somehow, that just made Charlies frown grow even more so, and William internally winced. He had a bad habit with saying the wrong things at the wrong times.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't even want to do this.” She tapped her pen a few more times, a bit more aggressively in Williams opinion, and turned her frown to the paper instead. “This can be serious, William. I know the act is working _now_ , but people will eventually get bored.”

“Then I can teach the animals a few more tricks.” William looked back to the book in his lap, frowning himself as he tried to keep his voice even. The black cover, unmarked, wasn't any help, nor did it offer him any ideas, and he felt more like he was complaining more than anything else, which...wasn’t what he wanted. “Maybe spending the money isn't such a good idea after all.”

Charlie's sigh was loud, exasperated, and William hunched his shoulders at her tone.

“You were the one to bring this up, and it is completely reasonable. Your setup worked for when we were traveling, but it lacks in a big city. There is a lot of competition here.” Charlie waited for his answer and when it didn't come he heard her sigh again, and all in all the whole conversation was making him feel even worse. He shouldn't have even brought it up. “Look, I can't be the one to make all these big purchase decisions William. You're the one onstage, and anything new we bring in is on you. So, are you going to help me or not?”

Well, now he didn't even want to talk about it at all! Why was it that whenever he brought up his worries about the future that it devolved into the sort of mess he'd rather not think about?

“Can we just...talk about it some other time?” He could already hear her frustration, and it made him want to curl up and disappear. Fiddling with the books cover, staring down at it and most certainly not daring to look at his friend, William tried to quell his own anxieties about all this. Right now just wasn't the time, right? Even if he had been the one to bring it up in the first place. “With everything going so well, maybe we can just wait? It's not as if it is all that important really…”

“But it will be, William, it will be!” Charlie's outburst made him flinch down this time, and it sent his insides into knots, knowing he should have just kept his dumb mouth shut in the first place. She almost seemed ready to speak again, a deep breath, but then she exhaled and for a moment it was silent.

“...I don't want to visit my family while this is still an issue.” 

“The holidays are still a few months away-”

“-And when they come and I'm gone and you are the only one to perform for all those people, what's going to happen? What happens when I come back and we've lost our entire audience because they've seen the same song and dance over and over again? What, William, should we do then?” 

William...didn’t really have an answer to that. The very thought of it, the implications of having to move on elsewhere, wasn't all that attractive to think about either.

This was the first place William had actually found a stable stage, one that didn't cost him all that he earned and that wasn't set in such terrible conditions. It wasn't an empty place, there were other acts from other entertainers, so there was never a lack of an audience, and for the first time in a long while William actually had a rather stable income. By extension, Charlie was doing better off than she had been way back before she had met him, and it was a bonus that her sister lived nearby in this city.

And, he supposed, an extra bit with the knowledge that his brother and his family lived a far shorter distance away than normal. Still a fairly long train ride, but nothing across the country as it used to be.

The thought of leaving, going back to either implore theaters to house him for a short few shows or to tag along in a roving circus, wasn't appealing in comparison to where he was now.

But, the other side of it was thinking of _changing_ his show. After years of finding the almost perfect step by step he had, with a few variations here and there, the idea of introducing more elements he'd have to get a grasp upon was all too daunting.

William knew he could do it, of course he could, this sort of on-the-fly thing was what he's been doing for years now even as settled into routine as it has become, but it wasn't the learning part that was tricky, and neither was it performing on stage. The problem was more on the book in his lap than anything else.

“I...I’ll think of something, Charlie.” He closed his eyes, tried to stop the queasy feeling in him from growing, at all these thoughts of the future he should be entertaining. “Just...not right now? I need a bit more time to figure it out.”

Charlie made a sound of exasperation, the tapping of her pen finally stopping, and the sound of the paper almost made him glance over but he stopped himself. He really didn't want to see the disappointment on her face.

“Well, just. Don't put it off, William, for the love of god, don't.” There was the scrape of the chair as she stood, and that made William straighten up and turn around, watch as she gathered her things. “I have other plans for this evening, and the next as well, so I wont be able to hang around after the show tomorrow. I'll try to swing by when I can, and by then that should be enough time to sort this out.”

William was frowning at that, and he highly doubted himself on reading what he needed to read by that point, but Charlie turned herself and walked over, hands clasped and now looking a bit apologetic at his expression.

“I know this sort of thing stresses you out.” Charlie raised her hand, for a moment the both of them unsure where it was going, before lighting upon his shoulder. “But don't leave it all on me, alright? We're both on the show, and that means I won't leave you to figure it all out by yourself, but this is a big thing that is going to happen and we both need to not be distracted.”

William nodded, and he still frowned and he couldn't quite get rid of it but the contact at the very least made it seem like she wasn't all that angry at him. 

All this time, and he still felt as if he had only the lightest of grasps on what was going on around him. Sometimes it even felt as if something was missing.

Well, it's felt that way for awhile, ever since the train ride to this place in fact. It had almost been funny, to hear the news when getting off board that a few hours longer and the whole thing could have collapsed, right off the very rails!

That had explained the odd bumpiness halfway through, but that had smoothed out and the people at the station had called them lucky. Thinking of the train jumping the rails and crashing into someone else was a terrifying thought, and William has been plagued with a few nightmares by now of it, but at least that hadn't actually happened.

He didn't even know where he'd be then!

But still. Sometimes things didn't feel quite right, getting offstage and speaking to other people at the theater, talking to Charlie before heading home with money in his pockets, far more than he could have ever really dreamed of. As if he missed something dreadfully important.

The book in his lap seemed almost warm, a comforting weight, and William sighed quietly.

“I'll figure it out.” he repeated, and right then and there William decided that he absolutely would, he had to, for the ease of both of their minds. “Don't, don't worry Charlie. We'll be fine.”

Charlie flashed him a smile for that, possibly recognizing his change in tone, and she pulled away, adjusted herself for a moment with a nod. 

“Alright then, William. Enjoy your free time without me bothering it all up.”

William stood up, book going safely to the table, a sudden bit of distress, he hadn't given off that vibe had he?

“Oh, it wasn't like that at all, I'm sorry-”

“I'm joking, William, I'm joking.” She smiled again, this time a hint more sincere maybe, he couldn't quite tell but it did feel a bit different. For a moment he stood, fidgeted, and she seemed expectant of something, from him maybe, but the moment passed and she turned to the door with a quick step, a flash of emotion on her face that he couldn't quite figure out. “I'll be off then. See you tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” 

It took a second, but then William jolted himself to his senses and hurried to the door, to open it for her, and she gave him another smile for it, though he feared this one seemed a bit more tired now. 

“I, uh. Goodnight, Charlie.”

“Goodnight William.”

And then she was out, walking away with her bag in hand, and William waited a second more before closing the door.

And then turning to lean against it, breathing in deep before exhaling loudly, and tried to not collapse down then and there.

Even though she was his friend, sometimes it felt a bit much. He's never been all that good with people in the first place.

But, he supposed he was getting better. His dream did depend on it, after all.

It was only a few minutes after, calming himself down, that William realized that maybe he should have offered to escort her home.

***

Watching people from his window, up high and safely away from being caught, was a little more entertaining than he'd ever thought it would be. William found that he quite liked having privacy like this, and not in places with all too thin walls or staked out tents.

The privacy of the people on the street, however, was what he supposed to be nonexistent. Probably one of the reasons why he didn't walk around as much as he should, actually.

Charlie would berate him on that, tell him it was perfectly normal and that really, would anyone stare at him from their own windows up there? He couldn't quite answer her on that since he did sort of waste his own time doing exactly that.

A part of him thought about how he should be out and about, actually, how he should visit places and get to know this part of the city better, especially with the year or so he's been here, but so far it was always Charlie inviting him out, nothing else. He didn't really have much of an idea of what to do with himself if he was out there alone.

William...didn’t have many friends here. What _did_ people do when they were not trying to earn a living anyway?

And that was why he found himself sitting at the window at times and idly watching people go about their business.

It was kind of funny, doing this. Almost as if he was on top of the world, and he could see everything spread out before him, every little expression and gesture and the low babble of conversation he’d never truly get to hear.

The two woman down the street, walking slow, talking animatedly, all dressed up and probably heading out to some public place for the evening. The man hurrying into the small grocer, and then hurrying out with bags in his arms, a focused, almost angry look on his face, smoke from a cigarette trailing from his mouth. Every once in awhile a few kids, on bikes or friends just in groups, hopping about here and there, and the odd car or so to rumble past on the road.

It almost felt as if he wasn't truly there, in the whole scheme of things. He did suppose, in some way, that he wished that he could cause a bit of intervention every once in awhile, like an odd god of some sort.

What a funny thing to think about.

And then there was a bit of tugging at his trouser leg and William was pulled from his thoughts by the rabbit at his foot.

Said rabbit gave him a look, nose twitching, before nudging at his pants once more, the noise from it an almost growl but not quite, and William sighed, bending down to wave it away.

“No no, mister rabbit, none of that.” 

The white little thing let him brush it back a few inches, and then was off with a huff, jumping and hopping as it found its way back under the couch.

“And don't go chewing on that either.”

The rabbit didn't give him an answer, as expected, and he sighed again.

The furry creature was using its free time out of its home cage for all sorts of shenanigans, as he expected it would, but so far he didn't think he'd have to replace anything. A bit of chewing on the table legs, scratches on the chairs, and a few unpleasant messes here and there but those were just the perks of caring for a rabbit. William wasn't all too unfamiliar with that.

The ruffled fluttering from the other cage in his lodgings got his attention, and with that William stood himself up. The window watching was going to have to be put on hold.

The birds inside could be quite talkative at times, though Charlie did say she liked hearing their coos, and they weren't the white doves he always imagined himself having but the two were not too much of a sore sight, even on stage.

One busied itself with grooming its companion, ignoring him as he peered in, and he clicked his tongue to get the pairs attention, dark eyes ringed with darker color. He hadn't been the one to truly train them, but a few finishing touches and they'd sweep from his sleeves when he did the trick, the whisper of shadows as they'd flutter about in the spotlight before landing on his shoulders.

That part was his, and Charlie had thought it quite splendid for the show. Many birds instead went to the rafters or the second handler, assistant in her case, but training them to return had not taken as long as he had feared. And the shadows didn't make them as confused either!

Unfortunately the rabbit wasn't as unaffected. Sometimes he feared the movement he was doing in his shows would be too much, but so far it just made the little thing quiet and easy to sweep from his hat, hand under its belly as he raised it to the audience's applause.

That did remind him, he should probably go see what the scoundrel was up to now.

His housing was larger than any before, so many places a rabbit could stick its nose into, and William had to crouch down by the couch to look underneath.

Its pale eyes stared back at him, nose twitching, and William smiled with a hint of relief at that. Rushing around to find where it ran off too was stressing sometimes, and Charlie was always telling him he was going to end up losing it someday.

It wasn't his fault the birds were much easier to watch! They came when he called; sir rabbit here was a bit more stubborn.

Still, it crawled out when he clicked his tongue, a sound it recognized, and he let it sniff at his hand as he kneeled before it, ran his fingers to its cheeks and watched its eyes close.

“You, my friend, might be the death of me someday. Or at least cost me a fortune.”

The rabbit made a noise when he patted its head, nuzzling against his fingers before licking at him, and after a moment William carefully scooped it up in his arms.

It thankfully didn't struggle, tired out maybe from its rushing around about the carpet and wooden floorboards, and when he deposited it once more into the cage he had for it the rabbit sniffed about a moment before turning its back to him, flopping down.

Charlie had actually thought it was hurt the first time she had seen that, imagine! The woman didn't have much experience with the furry critter variety, but William supposed it was because she seemed more interested in the scaly side of things.

It was surprising, to sometimes see her go off in a park just to come back with a lizard trapped in her gloved hands! Not quite a normal thing to do, but, well, William didn't think he was a fairly normal person either.

They might get a few odd looks, but his friend never seemed to be bothered, and slowly but surely William was figuring that out as well. Maybe at some point in the future he'd not care a thing for what other people thought of him?

That would be nice, William thought. He'd not be so paranoid or anxious then, surely.

When he turned back around the book was there on the table to greet him, as usual. Standing over it, running his fingers over the dark cover and feeling how oddly warm it was under his fingertips, William eyed it with a mix of odd feelings.

This little thing was what made all this possible. His home, Charlie's ease of living, his clothing and the food for his table and the care for his pets, the very fact he could live the dream he's had since he was a child; this book has done so much for him.

And he hasn't even read all of it yet. 

Sometimes he entertained the idea that he'd never finish it, that the pages never seemed to get thinner and yet there was always something new to look upon. But Williams sense of Latin was rusty, perhaps beyond rusty, and there were other languages in there as well, some he knew and others he did not. So much barred to him, but what little he could understand was enough.

He didn't have to resort to sticking his animal companions into uncomfortable situations for hours upon end, show after showing each day; instead, a few dramatic words that were possibly Latin, perhaps something else, and the cold feeling in the back of his mind would drain down his spine and numb his fingertips and there they would be where they had not been, doves in the air and rabbit in his hat, poking a dazed, curious head up over the rim. The commanding words only grew from there, Charlie helping on the sidelines or even being center stage herself, her shadow elongating and causing a stir of gasps as it lifted her up, the semi illusion sometimes even making him almost stand back to stare in awe. But, as the magician with the magic in the center of his palms, he couldn't let his own wonder get in the way of the show. 

The dopplegangers were nifty as well, shadows outstretched from his feet as he directed them to dance about the theaters walls, the ceilings and even at times about the audience, to shake hands or tip swiftly taken hats or even sweep coins from behind children's ears, earning gasps and laughter in answer. The double, even triple vision could get a bit much, so he didn't dare it often, but those were for packed nights.

There were other little tricks, of course, ones that used to be simple, almost boring in comparison to how lively the flickering shadows and dark smoke made them now, hands not his own that would sweep from the books pages as Charlie held it out for his commands, words like smoke to drift in the air.

He often did wonder if attempting what other, more famous entertainers did would cause more of a stir. Escapes, maybe, or caskets cut in half or stabbed through, but William was a bit unsure on that still.

It did leave him feeling odd, sometimes, that Charlie still called them illusions. It felt almost rude, too, but he couldn't just tell her that.

The little slithering things visiting him late at night, sometimes waking up breathless with a heavy weight on his chest and pitch white eyes staring at him from the gloom, didn't quite seem like the type to get offended anyway.

William hoped not, at least.

He let the palm of his hand rest upon its surface for a few moments more, a faint, almost buzzing static numb feeling pricking his skin, before William pulled away to face the window once more. He didn't quite feel up to taking another crack at decoding its words, not on his day off, few as they were.

There seemed to be less and less English in there now, or maybe he was turning the pages wrong, but the pages were of mostly Latin, sometimes something so similar and yet not at all the same, odd grotesque pictures and graphics that didn't make any sense. Every once in awhile a page was just an image, and he could swear at times said image moved, swayed, stairs roving upwards in almost impossible directions somehow, a terrible twisting knot of shadow, a barren throne raised high, eyes climbing eternally to the blank sky, devoid of all color, a nothingness neither white nor black, and it made his head hurt just remembering it. Sometimes the words were in a language he hasn't spoken since childhood, and it made him prickle in an uncomfortable way to be reminded of such, swiftly turning pages until it was something else shown to him once more.

Sometimes, especially late at night, after exhaustive shows and having read himself raw on the blasted pages and their shifting, shadowy words, William could almost believe the tome to be a living thing. The cover would breath under his fingertips, the faintest of whispers and the odd spread of its ink from its pages, smudging in between his fingers, but by then he'd decide he needed to sleep and turn in for the night, the morning revealing nothing odd or bizarre afterwards.

Staying up so late seemed to do such terrible things to him, but William didn't want to admit he'd rather embrace the act and induce insomnia than have to rough out hours of nightmares or terrors.

Sometimes the shrieking of metal and a woman's cries rang in his ears long after having woken up, and sometimes the bands about his wrists and squeezing his throat shut, tightening like a noose about his neck and caging him in, was just all too much to take. Having to perform under such distress only hours later made him look messy, and at the very least being tired didn't bother the shadows nearly as much.

His control slipped when he was terrified of the unknown and unrealized. Exhaustion didn't bare down nearly so harshly, nor as quick.

Charlie seemed worried, frowned a tight frown when he waved it off as just a bit of night terrors, nothing more, but his tiredness she didn't seem to so easily pick up upon. William had to be grateful for that at the very least; she was his friend, and he supposed friends were meant to worry so about each other, but at times it felt almost too much.

But, perhaps he was a bit much as well. He couldn't count all the times he's heard Charlie sigh in exasperation at him even if he tried.

Glancing to the bird cage, the two grey doves huddled together, one already asleep and the other watching him calmly, William heaved a sigh and returned to the window to watch a bit more, settling as he rested his head in his arms.

He really didn't have anything better to do than read the book or attend to the animals or watch the world go by outside his window, did he? At least Charlie had her sister, had friends.

He wished he knew how she did that, connected to people so easily. Well, if it was an easy thing, then he should have been able to do it by now, right? Lots of normal, everyday people had friends, were close to their family.

For a moment William let his mind think of Jack, of the little family only a few hours away from him right now.

And then he dismissed the thought with finality. Charlie had a good relationship with her sister; his brother and him were a different story.

Eyes idly sliding over the street, William huffed in his arms and tried to not think about how pitiful this must be. One of the pigeons ‘coo-roo’ed in answer, a low startled growl from the rabbit, but that was all he got.

...Oh, that man was out and about again. Sometimes William even passed him by on the opposite side, returning from the theater or the market.

He never seemed to be around when Charlie accompanied him.

The street had its locals, of course, people he was starting to recognize by seeing them around, on the same schedule, mostly at the same time and the same path every day or so.

The woman at the end who he'd avoid, feeling awkward and avoiding eye contact as she rattled and sometimes waved her sign. Charlie sometimes crossed over to give her a few dollars, a few words, but William just couldn't make himself talk to a stranger out of the blue like that.

There was a man who worked at one of the smaller stores, would take the same route every day after closing shop, to the park, always looking rugged and picking tree leaves from his hair. The kids that biked around the street liked talking to him, William sometimes watching from his window as they'd shove themselves into the small shop, and he wondered if he should ever see what they sold there. Looked like antiques, from a distance at least.

An old woman would leave her home early in the morning, and would return a bit before nightfall, looking completely normal and without even a hint of what she did all day. She had a cane, some days, golden yellow and topped with possibly ebony or bleached bone, and from up here he couldn't see very well but she had the look of a sour lemon, someone he'd rather not cross.

Sometimes one of the other theater workers would walk down the street, from the theater like him, but far later in the day. One of the prop artists, he thought, though he's never spoken to her, but she always had her hair tied back into varying styles and was always carrying props to and fro.

And one of the other entertainers, but he only ever caught sight of the man for a short moment before he turned down another street. Still dressed up half the time too, and he hardly knew him but Charlie was more on the social talkative terms with her co-workers. 

William just...talked when he had to. He supposed he wasn't all _that_ interesting really, another minorly known magician compared to the theaters plays and performances, and it really was just him and Charlie.

Still, eyes roaming the street a moment, gliding back to the local he's starting to get a bit more familiar with by now, at least he could do this. Not quite socially adequate, but at least he knew a few familiar faces?

Charlie wouldn't count that as viable, he knew, but she...didn’t know of this habit of his. Probably a good thing; it could be called creepy, after all!

But it wasn't, William assured himself, watching as the man wandered to and fro in front of one of the alleyways near the closed down bar. He wasn't being creepy about it, he was just…

Bored, was all. Not being creepy. William was sure he wasn't creepy in any way.

The man down there looked nervous, with the usual scowl he had set on his face, and William always found himself wondering what in the world was he trying to do with his hair. It was as if he tried to style it in some way, but just didn't have the supplies or time and instead made it look a mess.

The man did look rough, every time William saw him appear down there. An unshaven face and scrappy clothing, and he's seen the woman at the corner talk with him like old friends. Perhaps the both of them were homeless.

Well, the woman most assuredly. She sort of slept over there.

William tapped his fingers on the sill, watched the man pace. It did scare him, thinking of how close he had been to living on the streets. But, for once in his life he had been lucky.

He had found Charlie and the book, and that had been all that was needed. The thought of living on the streets like some of these people _scared_ him more than he could ever admit.

The man down there wouldn't stay for long, pacing as he was. If William was a bit more nosy, he'd try to guess what the fellow was up to; all that nervous glancing about didn't quite look as unsuspicious as the man probably thought he looked.

He was rather short, from here and whenever William attempted to not make eye contact from across the street, shorter than a lot of the people that he watched from the window. Not as much so as some of the people he's met in roaming circuses, not those performers using their talents to earn a living as they did, and while William was sure he wasn't a small person of any sort he was awfully short to just be…hanging around as he was.

He tried to not judge people just by how they looked, but William was fairly certain he'd never talk to any of those he was watching with his free time, so what he saw was what he would ever get, as uninformative as it was. The man down there looked frustrated, nervous, in rough shape and sort of out of place, and all things considering kinda shifty.

After a few minutes of waiting, the man startled by something, practically jumped, at what William could not figure out, but he quickly turned on his heel and ducked down into the alleyway, disappeared.

He'd reappear from there after a few minutes, quickly leaving without anymore wasted time, and head to the park. Maybe even talk to the lady down there as well, chat to each other as William idly watched on. 

Whatever the man did down that alleyway didn't quite give off the feeling of legality, but William, again, tried to not guess all that often. After all, this was a real person, down there, with a real life he lived and nothing at all to do with William whatsoever. He really didn't have any right to stick his nose into anybody's business.

It didn't stop his curiosity all that well, but...William has had a few bits of shifty activity going around in his life before, back when he had shaken the wrong hands. 

Over and done with now, he'd much rather not have those memories resurface, but it showed enough to know he was no saint either.

And, it _really_ was none of his business. William was just bored and wanted to watch other people go about their perfectly normal lives, nothing more.

Directing his attention away from the alleyway, to watch a few kids as they biked around in the road, laughing and yelling, William heaved a sigh into his arms, shoulders falling as he leaned more fully on the sill. The faintest of breezes ruffled his hair, cool but not cold, the smell of the city following along, not the freshest but grounding, and there was a brief sound of flapping movement from behind him before ‘coo’s filled the air, both birds rumbling to each other, lost in their own birdy little world.

He wished it could be as easy as that sometimes. Maybe if he had his own little world to watch over, nudge a bit every once in awhile, he'd be less bored.

But then, he'd not be performing, and that was what he wanted, right?

Yes, William assured himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep, calming breath. Of course.

Of course it was.

***

The book, tonight, was being a bit...ah, petty.

William carefully flipped over another page, frowning as the letters and lines turned out of focus, blurred, swirled about as if to leave the page entirely on their own. It was warm, the binding radiating heat in his hands, through his gloves, and to say he wasn't minorly enjoying that was untrue.

The act today had required a bit more hand gestures than usual, especially with the new training of the birds, and the shadows had been a mite bit taxing as well, though William was not complaining. A little row of children, school age and arguing and pushing and obviously quite distracted as their parents sat tiredly on either side of them, had gone rather quiet after the first squiggling little shadow had skittered on by, practically right in front of them.

Mr. Skitts wasn't one to grace his shows lightly, not at all, but if it wanted to then William had no qualms against it. The shadow had blinked its pale eyes and tilted its head, perhaps like a dog of sorts, and when one of his doppelgangers had pulled itself up from the floorboards and stared down at the lot of them the children had almost looked scared!

But then William had easily transitioned it into bowing, some grand dramatic gestures to make sure its intentions were visible, and while he on the side directed it and allowed the shadow come to life the focus of stage, the doppelganger had flourished flowers and ribbons and the children had lost that fear and 'ooh'd and 'ahh'd instead. The rest of the crowd seemed to like that as well, and tampering down the more, er, "devilish" performance parts for tonight had been a little more calming than he had thought it would be.

Charlie had seemed to be a bit unhappy with that, told him afterwards as they packed up that he really needed to settle on a theme and not do all this wishy washy back and forth, and William didn't really have a reply to that.

He hadn't liked seeing those kids look all terrified of him, truly! He was sure of that, pretty sure, at the very least _mostly_ sure, but Charlie's offhanded little comments were throwing him off.

To say that he was distracting himself from thinking about it by shoving his focus into the Codex was an understatement. He hasn't even changed from the suit yet, and he still really didn't quite feel up to it.

Without his gloves on the aches and pains were soothed by the heat radiating off the cover, warmth in between the pages, as if almost comforting even, and it was such a silly thing but William smiled down at its pages and appreciated the bizarre characteristics that it held. Books were not known to be, er, warm, or temperate in any way such as this, but the Codex Umbra was rather special in comparison.

It was funny, to think of how he had actually come to own such a thing. And right after the rickety train ride, after hearing the nerve wrecking news that he had just barely scraped by with his skin intact, the train breaking down finally at the station!

Charlie had wanted to visit her sister, very much so, and with their lodgings figured out well beforehand, smaller and simpler than what he had now, William had given her a quick fluttery goodbye and watched her hurry along as she left the station. He had later come to the realization that perhaps hearing the news of the dangerous train ride had shaken her as well, and heading out to meet her sister had probably been something to do with easing the nerves, but he didn't feel abandoned in any sort, of course not! Haha ha...

He had admittedly gotten a bit lost that first time, and that homeless woman at the end of the street had made some odd, rude remarks to him whenever he passed by in a confused muddle, trying to figure out the addresses around him, but in the end he had figured it out and gotten there safely with rabbit and doves in tow.

But, that was after finding the book.

Which had been...well, he had spotted it really. The black cover, poking out like it always seemed to, as if to call attention, an odd, swinging sway that had made his feet shuffle over and pricked his curiosity well over the threshold he was more accustomed to. William really wasn't one to go digging into trash, public or otherwise, and at least not in broad daylight and publicly, but someone had unsuccessfully attempted to stuff the tome into a nearby trashcan and perhaps gave up halfway through, leaving it still exposed.

A blessing for him, perhaps. If he hadn't found the Codex, hadn't had all this help he now was relying upon so, so terribly, then William had no doubt his living situation would be so, so much worse.

Hell, with it having been quite a bit of time now, book warming his hands and letting his eyes close as he sighed, the swirly image of Mr. Skitts on the page floating through his mind idly, William wondered if he would have even been among the living if he had somehow missed this wondrous little thing.

Even if he was really, really starting to ponder on its presence being the reason for his nightmares. He'd much rather not blame a book, of all things to blame, but then again it was a rather nightmarish read.

Opening his eyes to watch the shadow image wiggle about on the flat surface, blink its small eyes up at him, Latin and some other foreign language circling around it, William heaved a sigh and flipped the page. This one shimmered with a shadow, shaped like the ones that branched off across the ground from his feet, and it flickered with static upon the page, eyeless, expressionless. 

The words here were not of a language he was familiar with, forgien lettering far from anything he could recognize, and William frowned as he scoured the page, making the attempt at the very least.

If, perhaps, the book had more information, more ideas for the show, anything really to direct and command the odd doppelgangers about, teach himself how to command them a bit better each time, then he would need to do his best to find it. He owed it to the act, to himself, and especially Charlie in doing everything he could to make sure there was always material.

And, with the holidays coming ever closer, he really needed to figure out what to do for a solo act for a few weeks.

Charlie...hadn't actually confirmed to him exactly how long she was going to be away, and maybe she didn't know herself. William wouldn't be nosy, that would be rude, so that meant he needed to be prepared.

And these shadows, the ones that made him dizzy and light headed and seeing double, in weird, awful ways, these might be the best that he could have when she went off on her vacation. He certainly needed to prove to Charlie that the show will go on, with or without her, and that everything was fine, nothing bad would happen, especially with him so focused and working so hard!

And the shadows _were_ quite useful. He didn't tell her, but sometimes backstage while packing up, alone while everyone else talked and did their social conversations in between each other after their shows, sometimes he'd twirl his hand and open up the Codex and out one of the doppelgangers would slither, tall and commanding and certainly dapper. A bit menacing, maybe, just because they were always so stiff! But William found they were very helpful, cleaning up and helping him pack and, even with the dizzy, tipsy feeling they gave him at times, the company was just so much easier to handle than having someone more real around.

Not to say they weren't real, of course. Charlie may think it was all illusion, or sleight of hand, but he knew otherwise. The Codex brought them to life, or at least gave him the ability to contort the magic in the air to his will, and to say it gave him some sort of dark, fluttery pride in his chest would be an understatement.

It may leave him feeling woozy, but the aftermath of seeing the shadows, _all under his will_ , was a bit overwhelming in the best of ways. Hell, even seeing Mr. Skitts, certainly not his to control, still sent a shivery little emotion bubbling in him. Unlike everyone else around him, William could see the shadow at any time, on and off stage, and it felt rather...special.

And it certainly made him feel better about things, for the most part. Nightmares, again, he'd rather not blame the book for.

Just stress, then. Nothing more or less, and with the coming holidays and Charlie's vacation leave, he was certainly very stressed!

As he watched the books pages, the words all slithering around and becoming faint afterimages, the warm cover almost, almost having a heartbeat of sorts, the shadow picture was becoming more static covered, black and grey and white, as if to fade from the page altogether. A few more phrases, Latin but not truly, but William wasn't exactly scouring the page for information at this point and only glanced over them idly. 

No English since he had opened it up about an hour or so ago, and while he would usually find that frustrating, his hands ached and his feet were sore from all the standing and he did have another showing tomorrow evening and really, it was probably just fine to keep the book in his lap and just sit with it a bit.

A book wasn't quite company, not usually anyway, but the Codex was warm in his hands and it wasn't bad or anything to keep a book around like he did, he was sure.

Its pages, however, did give him a little idea.

Examining the image on its page opened to him, carefully running a hand over the shivery picture and watching the dark lettering move, swirl as if smoke under his fingertips, William pursed his lips and wondered.

He could summon the shadow dopplegangers on stage, and backstage, but he's never really tried anywhere else. Were they useful for more than just the magic tricks he performed, or were they restricted?

In the show he could have them do all manner of things, the dancing around and twirling away of hats or coins, slipping through the audience and focusing on one person at a time to interact with, sometimes summoning bouquets of shadowy flowers to give only to have them puff into nothingness a moment latter, to the surprised laughter of everyone around. They could interact with him too, he knew that, especially after accidentally tripping himself up once with too many on stage, but thankfully everyone had found that to be funny and he had to wing it and play that up for a few minutes.

Charlie hadn't liked that, especially afterwards when he tried to hide the bruising. The shadows just didn't know their strength was all, and that horrid limp had finally faded a few weeks after, so there really was nothing to worry about.

She did make him promise to not do it again though, so William had to focus a bit harder in making sure he wasn't too close on stage.

But, well, she wasn't here right now, and he wasn't standing or performing, so maybe just a bit of, hm, testing the waters maybe?

He didn't have many chores here, and while he loved the animals and their funny little personalities sometimes it could get a bit, well, lonely. Charlie didn't stay around here often, after all. She had her own life to live, and he certainly wouldn't bother her with his meaningless little feelings and thoughts that crept up on him sometimes.

And, while shadows didn't talk, perhaps they were company? He wondered if they could read, with him doing the same, and trying to organize what that might feel like was hard to think of but William was a bit curious. They had to be more than just entertainment, right?

With that in mind, William sat himself up straighter, adjusted the Codex in his hands and lap, and carefully raised his hand over its pages.

They flipped around a bit, sensing his intent maybe, and landed on a blank page for just a moment.

And then there was that weird, ah, odd little pull, almost, squinting his eyes at the itch in the back of his brain, the swift tug and then shearing, page going dark, and then the slithery shadows under his feet, darting about the floorboards and then carpet, before swirling and piling and finally rising into something more solid, and then William had to blink to focus his dizzy eyes and look up at the shadow doppelganger towering over him.

"Well, hello."

It didn't answer him, of course, and it was just the oddest of things, to see himself from a different direction, looking himself in the eye, like a mirror and yet not quite like one at all. It left him a bit light headed, weak in the chest, possibly more than usual, but it has been a long day and he did summon a few earlier in the show, so he chalked it up to a hint of fatigue. 

Slowly, a bit shakily, he closed up the book, watched as the last flickering remains of shadows wisped here and there, fading, not even leaving a stain on the carpet. The clone itself just stood there, stiff, still, but the fact that he had certainly summoned it, outside of where he usually would do so, made him heave a shivery little sigh. 

"So…" 

He stared up at it, and it was different, oddly enough, to see under the lights of his own home, without the stages brightness or the backstage gloominess, instead in a completely different setting. Its face was blank, almost oddly flat looking, even, but he already knew it had angles, dips that mirrored his own face, an almost exact copy.

William found himself shakily raising his own hand, just a brief touch to his own cheek, and it had an odd dizzy effect, watching the shadow stiffly do the same, and in turn be watching himself make the action in the first place.

If he just, focused, maybe, it was as if he was sliding for a moment, minds eye moving, and he blinked again as he stared through the shadows nonexistent eyes upon himself.

It was even odder, to see the older man sagging in his chair like that, one hand on the black tome in his lap, the other loose on the chairs arm rest, face dipping with faint frown lines and eyes darker, perhaps even dull looking.

He's seen himself in mirrors, adjusted his suit and the makeup for the stage show each and every day, but…

The person looking back up at him now looked ever so tired, and not at all what he thought of himself.

And then William closed his eyes, jaw grit tight, and he shook his head as the odd, disjointed feeling snapped back, away. The connection stayed, like an ache, a familiar, eternal one, but it wasn't as sudden, new or strong as mere moments ago.

Just stress, was all. He was tired because of the stress, nothing more.

The nightmares kept him up at night, but he was fine. He's dealt with bad dreams before, many times, and he knew he would get through them fine. It wasn't the Codex that was doing this, he was sure.

After a moment, a few moments really, getting his breath back, not really able to calm his heartbeat or stop the dizzy light headedness, William made himself look back up at the shadow doppleganger of himself once more, still standing there, arms limp at its sides, not even the hint of breathing from its stiff chest.

It was almost subconscious, to eye its straight back, the way it held its shoulders wide, the absurdly still, solid way it seemed to hold itself, but it was only a passing thing, slipping away to the back of his mind. 

In all honesty, he felt somehow even _more_ tired now.

With that in mind, William suddenly had a faint idea of what he could do first with the shadow of himself. Slowly, careful now with the topsy turvy feel of his double vision, arms shaking, he shrugged off his suit jacket, fabric wrinkling as he pulled his arms from the sleeves. He gave it a passing look, wondering if he would need to iron it, and the thought of standing up was already making his muscles just ache, but this was an easy remedy.

He had help now, after all!

Looking back to the stiff shadow, William carefully straightened up his jacket, then held it out by the shoulders, towards the doppleganger.

The next part took a moment, but the slippery slope of sliding between these two views, in both at the same and yet sometimes in neither constantly, was making it a bit difficult in trying to concentrate. Narrowing his eyes, taking another steady breath as his arms trembled and his sense of balance went funny, sitting and yet feeling as if he was standing at the same time, William finally braced himself.

The feeling was like a, a click of sorts, like when he was on stage, except it felt a bit different this time. He didn't know how he understood it, but he could certainly _feel_ it.

It almost made him want to fall, nauseous, but he knew this better now, it was like onstage, he knew what to do.

And so did his clone, and with that his arms shook as the suit jacket was taken up, another detached feeling of holding the garment out with care, looking upon it from both sides, two angles.

He kept a grip, even as he closed his eyes, and that, that helped.

He tried to not close his eyes often on stage, to keep the show entertaining, keep the audience from getting distracted, but this was certainly helping him.

So now he was...here?

He had the jacket in his arms, even as he let his hands rest upon the Codex and its warm cover, even as he slowly, carefully leaned back into the chair, made himself comfy.

He shook out the jacket, gave it another look before nodding, deciding that he just needed to hang it up for the night, not too much work really.

And then he looked around, the carpet, the wooden flooring, little scratches and nicks in the furniture legs from curious rabbit teeth and feet, feather dust and the odd down feather here and there. Funny, how from another pair of eyes it looked almost messy in here!

The walking part was somehow, easier. He knew how to walk, even like this! There should be no difference from the stage to his own home!

That thought made William open his, uh, eyes, dizzy again, but the chair helped. It was dawning upon him now, the stage was different, somehow. It wasn't nearly so hard to move his other selves then, so why now?

The book in his lap was warm, slowly moving his hands to lay overtop it, and William bowed his head as he tried to organize his thoughts, yet at the same time direct his other pair of feet.

It took a few minutes, idly commanding his shadow as he thought, tried to think it through, _why_ was it different on stage, easier even, before he found himself looking down upon, ha, himself once more, the distraction broken as he realize he had done what he had intended to do.

William straightened up, looked over to near his bedroom, and there was the closet, and there was the jacket, hung up neat and proper like he always hung it. And, next to him, was himself, watching him look about.

He looked up at its face, or really the both of him looked into, uh, his face, and it dawned upon him that _maybe_ he was just overthinking things.

He had wanted to hang up the jacket, and that was what he had done, nice and simple, like it was everyday. 

Onstage, it was simple. They did what he wanted, because that was what he wanted to be doing. 

The Codex seemed to breath under his hands, the faintest of feeling and the warmth of its cover, and after a moment William flipped it back open, just in case. Foreign letters, languages swirling over it, paragraphs upon paragraphs, and as he bent over the pages to try and see if it had answers for him it was a subconscious thing, to direct his other self.

Almost, almost like a muscle one had to use, to make it stronger. If he worked on it enough, as he did on stage, then eventually it should come naturally to him.

Right? That was the more logical approach, anyway, and while magic like this wasn't quite all that it had to have some sort of bearing to what he knew as reality.

William was not really good at not overthinking it, really, but he just needed to practice.

Getting distracted trying to decipher, or at least make an attempt at guessing and puzzling what the Codec had for him to read was just enough for him. His other vision moved, and swirled dizzy, but he's done it before.

William knew what he was doing, and so did his shadow.

Though, cleaning wasn't quite the extravagant or dramatic sort of thing someone would normally do when they had a second self wandering around.

As the little images of Mr. Skitts darted about and teased the numbers that floated upon the pages, Williams clone went about dusting the furniture and organizing papers, taking care of crooked, out of place pieces, in general tidying up. Unlike the stage, this splitting of duties was oddly soothing.

The picture of the shadow blinking up at him almost looked smug, if he could even attribute smugness to a living shade. He idly tapped at it, watched the smoky letters and its image swirl and crawl away, slip to a different page, and without it bugging him William was able to return to one of the paragraphs that most interested him.

Something to do with tools, of sorts, but it was difficult trying to understand what sort of tools it implied, or even why.

He knew shadows could pick up and even use the things he gave them, so why get so specific and cryptic about more specialized items? What made it even more difficult was that some of these letters he couldn't quite translate, or even see in all their blurred out, redacted pieces.

Sometimes it felt as if the Codex _didn't_ want to tell him things. An odd thought, that a book could even withhold information from him!

Well, he'll get it eventually. He just needed to try harder, dig a bit deeper. Perhaps he should visit a library, have a look at ancient languages or see if the Codex itself had a sibling volume that he could take notes from. It may not even be the only of its kind, after all!

He looked up just as his doppleganger did the same, over from doing the dishes behind a counter, and he blinked in confusion for a moment at the cross vision it gave him so suddenly.

He almost dropped a plate at the sight! He wondered if Charlie would laugh if he told her that the sight of himself almost scared him. Like walking by a mirror and catching sight of a stranger, just enough to make him jump.

But it had only been his shadow that startled, not himself. Or, at least he thought so anyway. It was sort of hard differentiating which was happening to who, when it was just him.

With that, however, he was able to turn one gaze down, narrowing his eyes in concentration, and finishing up everything at least made another glance of his lodgings look a bit better. He couldn't do much for some of the damages, but nothing to be done when one owned animals, especially a stubborn little rabbit.

Which reminded him of something.

He turned, strode over to where the cages were, watching himself idly as he leaned back in his chair, Codex open and invitingly warm, content even somehow. The flutter of the doves distracted him a moment, peeking in as they eyed him darkly, tucked together in one corner of the cage, and William frowned at that behavior.

He didn't mix the animal tricks with the shadow clones often, hardly at all. It seemed to make the creatures a bit on edge, now that he thought about it. 

For a moment he brushed his fingers against the wire cages bars, just to see, ignoring the image of blackened, talon almost hands, shifting foggy shadow, and the birds inside made gruff noises, scooting back against each other and puffing up. They wanted nothing to do with him.

Or, no. They wanted nothing to do with the shadow. William shakily tapped his chin at the thought, wondering vaguely what the difference was.

Leaning back, allowing the birds room now, he turned his attention to his only rabbit.

Who didn't seem too feel threatened by his presence. Mr. Rabbit was more interested in dozing, actually, and he tilted his head as he leaned down to have a look.

Funny, this different view point. Both rabbit and birds looked different, somehow, but William couldn't quite put his finger on it. His own, original vision, watching from afar, showed something that was a miniscule different from what he was seeing up close.

Maybe he was just overthinking it again. Maybe he should stop that.

William shook his head, the shadow doing the same, and instead started to fiddle with the rabbits hutch.

That seemed to wake the creature up, ears straightening and eyes wide, but he was able to open it up and give himself more access.

But the instant he attempted to slip his hand in, a dark shadow fogged arm that seemed sharper the more he tried to not focus on it, was the moment the rabbit decided it did not, in fact, like this intrusion.

The angry growl startled him a bit, and so did the almost scream, the sudden panicked coos of the doves in response. The shadow doppelganger pulled back aruptedly, the flash of his curved dark claws horridly disorentating, and with that William pulled himself into a dizzy stand, Codex shut tight and slid back to the chair, the aching bonding strengthening a moment as he wobbled and tried to blink the double vision back.

His heart was loud in his ears, and he was just ever so exhausted really, but the shadow had distressed his animal friends and that just wouldn't do. So much for trying to make his life easier.

It didn't react when he drew close, and he fought the urge to look upon himself, shaking his head, and the vision, away with a firmer resolve now. At least he knew now that the two parties would not get along, and it was better to know beforehand. What would have happened if he had tried anything onstage?

He would have to inform Charlie that the ideas he had for this wouldn't work out. She was...probably going to be disappointed.

But, he couldn't risk his animals well being for the show, just like he didn't want to stick them in stuffy dark places for the sake of the audience! The shadows helped him in bypassing that, but it looked like they couldn't do much else.

Oh well, William thought, frowning as he fought the urge to glare at the shadow at his back. It must not be a perfect copy of him, really, if it scared his friends so!

With that he shooed the doppelganger away, not looking upon its face and instead making it, or himself, take a few steps back as he wobbled and steeled himself into not falling over. For a second he almost felt the urge to try and help his other self, no wait, his _real_ self into catching his balance, but he wasn't having any of it!

The doves still huddled to the back of their cage, his rabbit was shrinking itself away into its bedding, still trying to hide away, and now he was rethinking on if summoning the thing had been a good idea in the first place!

Maybe he should just keep it onstage, and nowhere else. At least he could do that safely, without scaring anyone!

But...that wasn't quite true either. He already knew the show scared people. Charlie was very sure that doing so made sure they came back for another showing, but William wasn't as confident.

He really didn't want to admit it, but a part of him missed his older, less extravagant acts. It was much simpler then, if a bit lackluster and sort of boring.

He shook his head and pushed away whatever little sad nostalgia he had for then. The shadows, and the Codex, made everything better, and he needed their help to make sure everything was going right. He knew by now that doing it his own way, alone, wouldn't work.

It was still an odd tickling sensation in the back of his mind, wobbling and viewing himself and yet not, and the urge to stand forward and help himself get his balance was strong but William grit his teeth and shook it off. 

He may need the Codex Umbras help for practically everything, but he didn't need it here, in his home! He could at the very least take care of that by himself!

With that in mind it only took a deep breath, a shivery turn as to stare at his own shadows blank face, and to snap that thin binding that tied himself together.

Like exercising a muscle he didn't use often enough. He just needed to break it in, was all.

The gaping emptiness afterwards was dizzying and almost dropped him, but he had a grip on the cages and he was gasping for breath, an odd almost void settling in his chest, but he chalked it up to exhaustion and the stress, nothing more. He'll be fine in a few hours.

He felt like vomiting, actually. But, he'll be fine!

He was fine on stage, he'll be fine here. William steeled himself, closed his eyes a moment, and slowly straightened up.

The rabbit was giving him an odd look when he glanced down, ears flat and still tense, waiting, but when he clicked his tongue and shakily slipped his hand into its cage it reacted like it usually did, sniffing and then bumping its nose to his fingers. Mr. Rabbit was fine, then.

The doves seemed to have forgotten the incident completely, back to shifting about their perch, hopping over to their water and back, tilting their heads and watching him with dark eyes. A part of him wanted to examine everyone a little more thoroughly, but this whole thing had set back whatever rest he had gotten by sitting down and now he felt even worse off. 

That at least assured him in not using the Codex here. Only for the stage, then, nothing else.

When he turned around, however, more thoughts of just collapsing in bed and trying to not think of having to show tomorrow, or having to summon more of his shadow selves once more, William found himself heaving a sigh, shoulders falling.

His doppleganger had left a mess, a smoky tar stain over the carpet and seeping into the floorboards.

William stood there a moment, frowning, feeling ill and exhausted and that usual horrid feeling of being on the verge of bursting into tears, and then decided that he'd take care of it in the morning.

***

Waking from nightmares was becoming all too common for him. William was starting to wonder if it was this room in particular, or perhaps the direction his bed faced.

He met someone a few years ago who had told him all about waking on the wrong side of the bed, and how they knew exactly how to avoid that. Unfortunately William doesn't remember anything left over from that conversation, just that the whole time he had been rather uncomfortable and a bit confused.

Really, that was what he usually felt when a performer from a circus tried to make small talk. They just kept talking, and talking, and talking, and in the end it was always Charlie who had to come to his rescue so he didn't have to listen to all the tips and "practices" laid on him, sometimes with a wink added on as if it was secret or an in joke he just didn't understand.

But, having forgotten this information, unwanted as it was, William was starting to get a bit desperate for the shut eye. The headaches were becoming more frequent, and he had almost dropped something during the act last night.

He had been able to disguise the mistake, shadows flipping and smoking about to catch it to a round of applause, though Charlie had given him a tense, frowny look. Brief, in passing, but William had quickly waved off his own fatigue and made himself finish the show, thankfully to a lovely turn out that made up for the stress.

They had slipped in a few new attractions, a bit of "illusion" at the very least, some shifting shadows that made Charlie look practically regal, the flare of darkening the stage just to make their eyes flash, dancing shadows and black flame with the red gem set atop, but William was still brainstorming the newness of it all. The Codex was being remarkably helpful, especially since that one night where he had awoken to the fireplace blazing, flames and charcoal and ash surrounding the glowing shine of the gem inside, and the stone was incredible, hot to the touch and color burning from the inside out, and he still had to think of ideas on how to use it. The pages he's been able to decipher spoke of fire and heat and destruction, power and surges of strength, life energy even, somehow, and William had admittedly grown a bit giddy with the stone warming his hands.

Charlie had thought it quite beautiful, but her confusion and her inquiring questions on where he got it sort of…got on his nerves a bit. Who cared where he got it? He'd much rather not tell her it was a gift from the book, or that the blaze in the fireplace had choked smoke and ash all over the carpets and had been horribly hazardous, waking him with coughing and gagging until he had finally been able to frantically put it out. The snatched up gem had _burned_ him, another reason he kept his gloves on for the whole day now, he didn't want to worry her for something so simple, and any questions she had William had set his shoulders stiff and told her he had his ways, and that a magician shouldn't have to expose themself for it.

It made him feel bad, how crushed his tone seemed to make her, but the show cleared up the bad air and, with that topic shut down, they could talk about much more entertaining ideas now.

Like his lingering idea of comedy. Slapstick humor seemed all the rage now, especially with the other performers in the theater, the act with the mime fellow was always packed, the line backing up down the street just to get in, and bringing it up with Charlie seemed like a rather brilliant idea.

But even when he had summoned up one of the dopplegangers, tried to illustrate the sort of humor that could be done with them, these little copies that could be hilarious if he just instructed them in certain, clumsy ways, she had pursed her lips and looked as if she didn't find it funny at all! Instead, she seemed to think he'd be selling himself short, trying to cash in on the latest fad, and really, was comedy the direction he truly wanted to go in?

It...wasn't, not at all, and William had felt a bit cowed at her reasoning as she had gone on, the shadow at his feet shrinking and shrinking and shrinking some more as she told him off even thinking of the idea, until it was little more than an impression at his feet before it dissipated into a fog that he slowly watched fade, not meeting his friends eye.

Magic wasn't quite comedy, after all, and Charlie did not want the act to devolve for the "lesser crowd".

William had shuffled his feet, felt bad for a variety of reasons, and nodded his head in agreement that the idea was a terrible one and that he'd not mention it again.

He supposed it was lack of sleep that was putting these bad ideas in his head. The stress of the coming months was starting to get to him, and the idea of performing all alone once again, even for such a short amount of time, was daunting. And then, of course, there was the paranoia he was trying very hard to not acknowledge.

It was only late at night, eyes burning and head pounding, sitting atop his squeaky spring mattress bed and trying to calm his heart, still shaky from a nightmare that he couldn't quite remember, it was only then that the thought of Charlie never coming back from her trip at all that haunted him, that perhaps she finds something better out there, better than him or his silly little dreams, and it's enough to make her stay away. This late at night, in the dark, heart still pounding and feeling that horrid foreboding, William found himself trying so very hard to not think about it and rather quickly failing.

If she left, then it would all be for nothing. A magician couldn't function without an assistant, especially not him being as far as he was, and he knew so many of his audience's eyes focused over to her, no matter his little thoughts on the matter. It was his dream, but Charlie made sure it was all pulled together, held fast enough to continue to work, and without her it would fall apart.

It had been just terrible, trying to run a show such as his own all by himself. If she found some place better, she would leave, and William would have no clue on what to do then.

This late at night his anxieties raged, spurred on by the recent, already slow forgotten nightmare, and William held his head in his hands and tried very, very hard to not think about it.


End file.
